


literal flirting with death

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 05:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: For every action there is a reaction. The same is as true for death as it is for any other thing.





	literal flirting with death

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sophie for betaing!!! And to Maddie, for the idea and for looking it over.

The Kingdom of Death is a vacuum of light and life, and nature abhors a vacuum. Hella pulls Adelaide from her Kingdom, the world tilts and shifts, and then Angelo Triste is on the throne of death once more. 

 

Time has not made the position seem more desirable to him.

 

It’s not as terrible as it was before, now that Tristero’s kingdom has spread far and wide. All sorts of beings pass through. Occasionally he sees someone he knew from Nacre, surprised at their unexpected demise and even more surprised to see him. He doesn’t blame them. He’s surprised to see himself back here too.

 

When they call him  _ Angelo _ , he gently corrects them to  _ Calhoun _ . He abandoned Angelo on a boat ride out of Nacre in the dead of night a very long time ago. Angelo’s burdens are Calhoun’s to carry, but he shouldn’t have to carry the man’s name too.

 

He could see wisps of life as it was now through the veil, war and panic and a winter without end. Velas, which welcomed him when he was without a home or a name, reduced to ash and rubble.  He tried not to blame his sister too much for that. Of the two of them, she was always the most like their father: so caught up in their vision for the world, unable to think about the cost of creating it.

 

He saw people he knew from Nacre in the wisps too, running and hiding, trying to make new lives for themselves in this new world. He saw people he knew from Velas, mourning their city and their dead, trying to remake themselves. 

 

He looked for Hella, often without meaning to, but he never caught so much as a glimpse. Her mark was upon the world, still, but she was nowhere he can see. Nor was the orc she travelled with, although Calhoun could see his ripples too, in a flooded quarry and scattered books.

 

The halfling she travelled with could be seen, though. Occasionally Calhoun caught fragments of him as he looked into the sliver of the mortal plane: Fero arguing his way through bartering with a shopkeeper or stopping to free an animal from the snow. Sometimes he’d see Fero so still that Calhoun would think he must be asleep sitting up were it not for the odd glow of life within him, a strange pulsing light that shone and then grew so dim Calhoun could barely see it. It was a captivating sight.

 

Calhoun watched the light so intently he almost missed the light knock on the doors of the throne room. He straightened on his throne, shaking his head to clear the vision of Fero from his mind.

 

“Enter,” said Calhoun.

 

Calhoun blinked a few times as the door opened, trying to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t just an imprint of his vision.

 

It  _ was _ Fero, looking a little more translucent than Calhoun remembered him, the edges of him curling and fading, like smoke. He looked just as surprised to see Calhoun as Calhoun was to see him.

 

“ _ Calhoun _ ?” said Fero. “What are  _ you _ doing here?”

 

His tone of voice was as though they were seeing each other in market of an unfamiliar town after a long time apart, his surprise ordinary and pleased and entirely without the reverence of Calhoun’s other visitors. Calhoun laughed, delighted.

 

“No idea,” said Calhoun. “But I am. What are  _ you _ doing here?”

 

“Um, Severea and Galenica sent me, they’re kind of my gods now? I help them out with stuff, or whatever,” said Fero.

 

“Oh.” Calhoun turned the information over in his mind. It made sense, in an odd sort of way. “What is it you need?”

 

“I, uh,” Fero shifted his feet. 

 

“Well?” 

 

He’d never known Fero to be short of words.

 

“I just wasn’t expecting to see you, man,” said Fero. “Like, this is great, don’t get me wrong, but I sort of had an argument all planned out for Adelaide, not you.”

 

“You think my sister wouldn’t have told you what you needed if you’d asked?”

 

“I mean, add her to the list of people who aren’t exactly a big fan of me.” Fero peered up at him. “Sort of thought you might be on that list too, honestly.”

 

Calhoun paused. “Being here, on this plane, it gives you certain abilities, and one of those abilities is to see into the mortal plane. I saw that you called me Calhoun, even after people told you that was untrue, even after my death.” Calhoun stood, and took a step towards Fero. “That was foolish, and dumb, and rude of you to say when speaking to my sister.” He took another step, putting him only an arm’s length from Fero. “But it was noble and kind to me."

 

“Being noble to dead people is how I was raised,” said Fero, tilting his head up to look Calhoun in the eye, “I used to think it was kind of a dumb way to be, but I think-- at that trial, I got it, a little bit. And you said your name was Calhoun. I’m not going to call you anything different unless  _ you  _ tell me.”

 

Calhoun smiled. “I appreciate it.”

 

Fero smiled up at him, wide and bright.

 

“So,” said Calhoun, “what was your question?”

 

Fero blinked. “What?”

 

“For Adelaide,” said Calhoun. “What were you going to ask her to do?”

 

“You don’t need me to like, do something for you first?” asked Fero.

 

“Preserving my identity was enough,” said Calhoun. “Besides, I’m happy to do a favour for a friend.”

 

\--

 

Fero visited several times after that, always with some half-formed excuse of a favour or pretending a vision had taken him to Calhoun instead of where he expected. Calhoun didn’t push it. He was glad for Fero’s bright company, the bare throne room filled with life and energy.

 

The Fero that appeared before him now was markedly different-- slouched, part of his hair red from a fresh wound. Calhoun stood quickly, moving to his side. For a moment, Calhoun felt a stab of fear that Fero was dead, but no, life and light still flickered within him. Calhoun put a hand on Fero’s shoulder, and Fero leant into him. Despite its insubstantial appearance, his body felt warm under Calhoun’s hands, alive in a way Calhoun had forgotten people could feel. He could almost feel Fero’s heartbeat through the light touch of his hand, feel the air as it rushed into Fero’s lungs. 

 

“Hi,” said Fero. His voice sounded scratchy and rough, like it had been pulled over stones.

 

Calhoun gave Fero’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It doesn’t seem like you have anything to ask me this time.” When Fero didn’t respond, Calhoun frowned. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just-- It’s been a long day and I’m tired,” said Fero, voice muffled from where he was leaning against Calhoun. “Everything and everyone sucks and I didn’t know where else to go.”

 

“And so you came to the kingdom of death?”

 

“It’s nice here,” mumbled Fero.

 

Calhoun huffed a laugh. “You might be the only person to ever say that.”

 

“Who wouldn’t say that?” said Fero. “If they’re here then they get to see you.”

 

“Most people don’t stay,” said Calhoun. “This is just a space they pass through. Most people don’t make as many return visits as you do, either.”

 

“Oh,” said Fero. He tilted his head up to look at Calhoun, resting his chin on Calhoun’s side.

 

“I’m not complaining,” said Calhoun quickly. “I’m just saying.”

 

“Okay.” Fero’s words got lost in a yawn. “Hey, is there somewhere to lie down in here?”

 

“Follow me,” said Calhoun.

 

He guided Fero towards the steps that led up to his throne, sitting down on the lowest step and pulling Fero down with him. Fero stumbled, landing half in Calhoun’s lap. Fero curled against Calhoun’s chest for a moment, rubbing his cheek against Calhoun’s linen shirt, the way a cat might do. 

 

It was even easier to feel the life in him like this, with their bodies so close. Calhoun felt the warmth of Fero sinking into him. He could almost taste the rich, damp air of the forest on his tongue. It was a heady sensation.

 

Calhoun ran a hand lightly through Fero’s hair, and Fero sighed.

 

“It’s just… it sucks out there sometimes, you know?” said Fero.

 

“I know,” said Calhoun, “It’s okay. Rest now. You’ll be safe here.”

 

Fero let out a long breath, wriggling as he settled in. Calhoun kept running his hand through Fero’s hair until Fero disappeared, his body turning to smoke in Calhoun’s hands. 

 

His warmth lingered in Calhoun’s mind for a long while.

 

\--

 

The next time he saw Fero, Fero had a great deal more blood on him. The light inside him was nowhere to be found. Calhoun stepped towards him even as his mind screamed to stay away, to not touch Fero, to not confirm that Fero’s life was gone. Fero’s skin felt as cold as Calhoun’s own, even through layers of fabric.

 

Fero grinned up at him. There was blood on his teeth. “Hey Calhoun.”

 

“What did you  _ do _ ?” said Calhoun.

 

Fero’s shoulders slumped. “Can’t win ‘em all, I guess. I--”

 

He broke off as Calhoun pulled him close to him, wrapping his arm around Fero’s small shoulders.

 

Fero patted Calhoun’s arm. “Hey, this way I get to visit you for longer, right? So it’s not  _ so _ bad.”

 

“Not so bad?” said Calhoun, “Fero, you  _ died _ .”

 

“Yeah, but now I don’t have to keep dissapearing on you,” said Fero, He tilted back, so that he could look up at Calhoun. “Having people leave all the time sucks. But now I can stay.”

 

“Here?” said Calhoun.

 

His gaze flicked around the bare throne room, with its glossy marble floors and plain, smooth walls.

 

“Sure,” said Fero, “Or wherever you’re going.”

 

Calhoun cupped Fero’s cheek, wiping away some of the blood with his thumb, willing it to disappear. With a clean face Fero looked younger, more like the Fero he’d known while they were both still alive than the weary warrior who’d been visiting him of late. Fero leaned into his touch, closing his eyes for a moment.

 

“Staying here with you sounds good, actually,” said Fero.

 

With his eyes still closed, he nuzzled Calhoun’s palm, his lips brushing against Calhoun’s skin.

 

Calhoun stilled, and then he leant down, tilting Fero’s face up towards him so that he could kiss him. Fero’s hands immediately grabbed at Calhoun’s collar, pulling his forward to deepen the kiss. His bloodied grip on Calhoun was strong, despite how fragile he felt under Calhoun’s hands. Calhoun wrapped his arms tighter around Fero, pulling him closer. He couldn’t do much more with the angle they were at. That was fine, right up until the moment that Fero bit at his lower lip. 

 

Calhoun cradled the back of Fero’s head, burying his fingers in Fero’s soft hair and pulling him forward as his throne manifested behind him. Calhoun sat down, shifting so that Fero was in-between his legs. Fero made a noise of approval into his mouth at the easier angle. 

 

Now, it was much easier to run his hands over Fero’s back, coaxing loud gasps from Fero as his hands slipped under Fero’s shirt. Now, it was much easier to shift Fero, grinding their bodies together in a rhythm that made Fero moan.

 

Fero’s hands made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, his small hands running up and down Calhoun’s chest. He kissed down Calhoun’s neck, pausing to suck a series of bruises along Calhoun’s collarbone. Calhoun’s hand tightened in Fero’s hair and Fero gasped, hips rutting against Calhoun. Calhoun pulled him closer, slipping a hand between them to press against Fero’s erection through the fabric, before undoing the fastening on Fero’s pants. 

 

Fero’s head tipped back, his eyes fluttering shut as he groaned. Calhoun muffled the sound with a kiss, freeing Fero’s erection. He grinned as Fero gasped into his mouth. Calhoun’s other hand slid up and down Fero’s back, dipping lower each time, digging his fingers into Fero’s skin in a way that made Fero squirm against him. A long-forgotten heat began to pool in Calhoun’s belly.

 

“Can we--” Fero gasped. “Do you have oil?”

 

“This is my domain,” said Calhoun. “I can have anything we need.”

 

Calhoun stilled his movements, pausing for a moment to take in Fero’s red-bitten lips, the faint colour in his cheeks, the way he arched up into Calhoun’s grasp. He whined, loud and needy, as Calhoun released him, his cheeks flushing a deeper pink as Calhoun held up the oil.

 

Fero slid a hand around the back of Calhoun’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His other hand wriggled in-between their bodies to work at the buttons of Calhoun’s pants. Calhoun allowed himself to get distracted for a moment, as Fero’s small fingers traced the outline of his erection through the fabric.

 

He slicked his fingers, easing one inside Fero. Fero dropped his head down, resting his forehead against Calhoun’s chest. Calhoun waited for a moment before adding a second finger, tilting Fero’s face up towards him to kiss his gently as he scissored him open.

 

“Can you--” he whined as Calhoun stopped his motions, his words stumbling over each other as he spoke. “You-- please-- can I--”

 

“Another?” said Calhoun.

 

Fero nodded, kissing him hungrily, his ragged nails digging into Calhoun’s skin as Calhoun pushed a third finger inside him. Fero let out a quiet groan with every thrust of Calhoun’s fingers, his breath damp on Calhoun’s chest.

 

Calhoun slid his fingers out slowly, pressing a kiss to Fero’s lips to quiet his whine. 

 

Fero climbed up into his lap as he reached for the oil again, kissing along his jaw. Calhoun could feel Fero’s cock hard against his stomach. He wrapped a hand around Fero’s waist, lifting him slightly so that he could wriggle his pants off far enough.

 

Fero wrapped a hand around his wrist when Calhoun went to use the oil again.

 

“Can I?”

 

Calhoun handed the bottle wordlessly, swallowing hard as Fero poured the oil first on his own hands and then on Calhoun’s cock, his small fingers gripping Calhoun tight. The sight of Fero’s hands around him was almost as good as the sight of Fero biting his bottom lip, face flushed as he concentrated on his task.

 

“ _ Fero _ ,” he gasped, after what felt like an agonising eternity.

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, his voice breathy, “Yeah, absolutely, okay.”

 

Fero shifted, hooking his legs around Calhoun’s back as he positioned himself. Calhoun kept one hand on Fero’s side, running the other down his chest, his fingers lightly brushing against Fero’s erection. Fero rocked against him, the rough skin of his heels digging into Calhoun's back. Calhoun groaned, his body curling around Fero so that he could bury his face in the crook of Fero's neck. He mouthed at Fero's pulse point, feeling the life thrum through Fero again under his lips as he pushed into the tight heat of him.

 

“ _ Gods _ ,” Fero gasped.

 

“Just the one, actually,” said Calhoun.

 

Fero’s huff of laughter became a groan as Calhoun shifted. He nuzzled the top of Calhoun’s head, the small motions of his hips urging Calhoun forward. Fero’s body was trembling by the time Calhoun was fully inside him. Calhoun pressed kisses along Fero’s jaw, letting his hands flutter over Fero’s body lightly. 

 

He slid his hands under Fero, lifting him up so he could thrust up into him. The motion of it tilted Fero back, letting Calhoun bask in the sight, Fero panting and wild in Calhoun's grip. He slowed down his motions, trying to draw the moment out as long as possible.

 

Fero whined, his fingers scrambling at Calhoun’s hands, his arms. Calhoun tightened his grip, grinning at Fero as he slowed their pace even further, even as Fero’s heels pressed into his back, trying to urge him forward. Fero’s erection bobbed with the movement, droplets leaking onto his stomach. Calhoun trailed his hand up across Fero’s stomach, letting his fingertips lightly brush against Fero’s skin to grasp him, matching his hand’s pace with his thrusts.

 

Fero squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip as he whined again. Calhoun inhaled, as though he could swallow this sound of it, kissing Fero deeply. Fero’s hands buried themselves in Calhoun’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp. Their slow pace began to take on speed and heat, Fero’s finger’s tightening in Calhoun’s hair as Calhoun thrust up into him.

 

There was an almost-sound, a familiar crackle of pressure, an old smell. Calhoun stilled his movements, looking across to the doorway. He could hear footsteps approaching, a tentative echo.

 

Fero squirmed in his lap. “Calhoun--”

 

Calhoun shushed him. “Someone’s coming.”

 

“Not if you don’t move,” said Fero.

 

Calhoun huffed a laugh. “No I mean-- someone is  _ approaching _ . Someone who’s died.”

 

“Oh,” said Fero.

 

Calhoun could feel Fero’s muscles twitching under his hands, restraining himself from arching up into Calhoun’s now-loose grip. His heels shifted against Calhoun’s back.

 

“So, you’ll have to just stay very still,” said Calhoun.

 

Fero’s eyes widened, making a choked-off noise as Calhoun leant slightly to one side, picking up the cloak that had materialised by the side of his throne. He draped the material around his shoulders, pulling Fero close to his chest and tucking the material in around them both to hide Fero from view. Fero gasped at the changed position, and Calhoun could feel Fero clench around him.

 

Calhoun rested a hand on the top of Fero’s head. “Can you stay still and quiet?”

 

Fero twitched. Calhoun could feel him twisting the fabric in his hands where he was hidden by the cloak. He nodded, once, biting his lip. 

 

“Good,” said Calhoun.

 

He tilted Fero’s face up towards him, slowly letting himself sink into the kiss, pulling back just as the door creaked open. A human poked their head inside. They had that look about them, the kind that told Calhoun they were a ghost before this. Their eyes flicked to Fero’s head, just peeking out from under the cloak. Fero didn’t look away from Calhoun, leaning his forehead against Calhoun’s bare chest.

 

“Approach,” said Calhoun.

 

They did, feet shuffling against the tiled floor. As they stepped towards him, Calhoun could see the years slip off them, and by the time they stood in front of him they were square-shouldered, their now-dark hair flowing loose over their shoulders.

 

“I never thought I would die,” they said.

 

“Ah,” said Calhoun. “From Nacre, are we?”

 

They nodded, folding their hands in front of them neatly.

 

“Things are much different away from Nacre,” said Calhoun, “but better, I think.”

 

His gaze flicked down to Fero. Fero’s hands were still clutching the cloak. Calhoun slid his arm that was hidden by the cloak around Fero’s waist, spreading his fingers wide over Fero’s side. He felt Fero clench around him, legs trembling where they were still wrapped around Calhoun.

 

The human in front of him cleared their throat. “Yes. I suppose.”

 

Fero began to rock against him slightly, his movements hidden by the heavy fabric. He pressed his face against Calhoun’s chest, letting out a soft whine, barely above the sound of a breath, so that only Calhoun could hear it.

 

“This is just a stage, a formality” said Calhoun, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I’m here to guide you on to where you’re supposed to be.”

 

He gestured behind him, and a door appeared in the smooth stone wall. Calhoun shifted to look at it - smooth polished oak with a glittering blue glass window pane set into the top of it. He gestured them towards it and they took a hesitant step. Calhoun nodded.

 

When they opened the door, the light was, as always, too bright for even Calhoun to look at. It left imprints on his eyes after the light and the door had disappeared.

 

As soon as the door clicked shut, Fero began to squirm in earnest. His nails dug into Calhoun’s chest and Calhoun shifted, letting the cloak slip off them both, fading away before it hit the floor.

 

Fero rutted his hips against Calhoun as best he could manage, sloppily kissing a trail across Calhoun’s chest.

 

“Now, where were we?” Calhoun did his best to take on a disaffected tone of voice. 

 

The effect of it was probably ruined as Fero nipped at his skin. He gasped, fingers digging into Fero’s sides.

 

“ _ Please _ ,” said Fero, his voice rough.

 

Calhoun hummed, sliding his fingers through Fero’s hair. “I suppose you were mostly quiet, even if you weren’t exactly still.”

 

“I was,” Fero whined, grinding against Calhoun, trying to find any friction he could.

 

Calhoun kissed along Fero’s jaw to murmur in his ear. “If they’d stayed here any longer they would have gotten a full view of you. Although I’m sure they knew anyway. You weren’t exactly being subtle.”

 

“Who cares about subtle?” said Fero, a strained tone to his voice, “they were  _ interrupting _ , it’s-- you-- Calhoun,  _ please _ .”

 

Calhoun bent to kiss him, swallowing Fero’s moan and he fucked up into him, quickly building to the pace they’d had before. He gripped Fero’s cock, running his thumb over the head and smearing the moisture down Fero’s length. Fero kept up a steady chorus of moans, his words lost as he clutched at Calhoun.

 

Fero came first, spilling over Calhoun’s hand and lap, his body shaking as Calhoun worked him through his orgasm, feeling Fero clench around him. Fero nuzzled at Calhoun’s chest, his body pliant against Calhoun’s, pressing kisses along Calhoun’s collarbone. He rubbed his face in the crook of Calhoun’s neck, making a pleased humming noise before sucking Calhoun’s nipple into his mouth. Calhoun gasped, following Fero over the edge. 

 

Calhoun held him close to him for a moment, as their breathing evened out. He brushed the hair back from Fero’s face, tucking it behind his ear.

 

“It would be selfish of me to keep you.”

 

“I wouldn't mind being kept like this,” said Fero.

 

Calhoun huffed a laugh. “The god of Death was so selfish once that he made a whole town immortal and I hated him for it. I couldn't even do it to one person. Especially not for someone as alive as you."

 

Fero traced patterns across Calhoun’s chest, running a light finger across nail-marks and old scars. “But I can still come back to visit, right?" 

 

“In dreams and visions, yes,” said Calhoun. “But I don’t want to see you back here like this for a long time. You’ve got a much longer life in you than this.”

 

\----

 

Fero sat up, gasping for air. He took a few deep breaths before he took in his surroundings, which included a large group of people staring down at him, several of whom had their hands on their swords.

 

“What?” said Fero.

 

“You were  _ dead _ ,” said Hadrian.

 

“Oh, yeah. I guess I was,” said Fero. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“But that’s not how it’s supposed to work anymore,” said Hadrian. He looked over at Adelaide and Hella helplessly.

 

Fero shrugged. “Then I guess I wasn’t as dead as you thought.” He winced slightly as he stood up, feeling stiff and sore. “Are we heading out or what.”

 

Hadrian threw up his hands, picking up his pack and swinging it onto his shoulder. Adelaide and Hella remained where they were as Hadrian led the way out, eyeing Fero carefully as he passed them.

 

Fero stopped, tilting his head to one side and turning to look at them. “Calhoun says hi, by the way.” 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins


End file.
